


A Scribe and his King

by orphan_account



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Implied abuse, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Thorin is an idiot who doesn't know how to deal with his emotions, Unrequited Love, vague mentions of mpreg
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-15
Updated: 2014-10-06
Packaged: 2018-01-04 18:30:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 10,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1084289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of Thorin/Ori ficlets, drabbles, and unfinished things</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. traitor

**Author's Note:**

> Warning for implied/supposed abuse from a partner

It was when Thorin shot at the messenger that Bilbo made his decision.

The Arkenstone had remained hidden among his things for days now, and suddenly, he knew why. Someone had to stop that madness.

Someone, he had learned along this adventure, usually meant “Bilbo Baggins, and don’t you expect any thanks for it” and so he prepared himself for it. It was easy enough, really, to take the little satchel in which the Arkenstone lay (it seemed heavier, but that must have been the guilt), and easier still to take send back to sleep poor Bombur, who probably didn’t deserve to be used so… but Bilbo knew it was his only chance, and so he took it, letting the rope ladder fall down the mountain’s side, and…

“The stone’s not there,” a voice said behind him.

Bilbo almost yelped and turned quickly, to find Ori looking at him with a blank face. It was the only expression the boy wore these days… when he was around at all. Bilbo hadn’t seen him in a while. Nori had explained that his little brother was exploring, but the hobbit rather thought it looked like the boy was hiding.

Which was sad really, especially after Thorin and him had announced their intent to marry, back in Laketown, and Ori had looked so happy back then…

He didn’t look happy anymore.

He just looked tired.

“What stone?” Bilbo asked, as innocently as he could.

“That stone,” Ori sighed as he took the Arkenstone out of his pocket, and the hobbit gasped in surprise. Ori sighed again. “Don’t worry, I didn’t tell anyone… only, I heard Thorin tell Balin that he was thinking of going through everyone’s things to see if we’d stolen it, and… well. I had to do something, right?”

Bilbo nodded, unsure what to do. Ori sighed again, and glared at the stone.

“I don’t know what you’re planning to do with it,” the scribe said, “but be careful. He… he’ll kill you, I think. Thorin will. He’s… he’s not… how he used to be and… if you were a dwarf, there would be laws to protect you, but you’re not. He can kill you if he wants, and not a single one of us will bat an eye, because he’s our king and we’re cowards.”

“I’m sure he wouldn’t. He’s… I’m sure once he’s forced to make a choice, he’ll realize…”

“He’s made his choice already,” Ori whispered, his finger clenching on the Arkenstone. “There’s only one thing that matters to him now, and it’s _not_ his kingdom nor his friends.”

It was tempting then, to ask the scribe if his lover had hurt him… but Bilbo feared the answer. If Thorin had done such a thing, his duty as a hobbit would be to warn Ori’s family, and there would be trouble, and he may never again have a chance to execute his plan… He liked the boy terribly, but there was a risk of war, and it had to be avoided at any cost.

Once everything was done, he would worry about Ori, and make sure that he was cared for and protected so that he no longer had to hide the Lady knew where…

But that would be later.

For now, he had a war to prevent.

As gently as he could, Bilbo took the arkenstone from Ori, giving the boy a small smile, as if to promise that things would be fine… but the young dwarf only sighed.

“He will kill you. If he knows you had it, he will kill you.”

“Well, we’ll see about that,” Bilbo replied. “Still, it has to be done, or there are many other lives that might be at risk.”

Ori nodded dejectedly, and suddenly hugged the hobbit.

“I’m not brave enough to go out there and do what has to be done,” he whispered. “But if I you come back, I swear I’ll do everything in my power to protect you… though I really think you shouldn’t come back. You’re not bound to him the way we are… so take your chance, and run away.”

Bilbo awkwardly patted the boy’s back, and promised that he would think about it, but his decision was made already.

He had promised Bombur he would wake him up, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was part of a large plot bunny that I'll probably never write in the end (partly because DoS happened and changed a few things)  
> in it, Ori decided to accuse himself of the theft of the Arkenstone, to protect Bilbo (as a dwarf, Thorin would have been legally forced to give him a trial before being sentenced to death and the rest of the company wouldn't have let Thorin kill him like they would have for Bilbo) and he would thus have been exiled


	2. Games

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After becoming lovers, Ori and Thorin discovers that they have some special interests in common

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had a rather awful day and I couldn't write on the things I wanted to write, so have this instead

It had been a secret affair, of course. How could it not? Ori was young, and a commoner, with brothers and a mother who could be protective to the excess, while Thorin... well. Thorin was a king. And kings didn't normally court their advisor's scribe. Some kings took scribes to their bed, yes, as lovers for a night or two, but it never was more than that...

Except that it had been more for them. Ori still couldn't quite believe it some days. That out of so many dwarves in their city of Belegost, it was him that Thorin had sought, that it was to him that the king had offered his affections...

“You can refuse me, master Ori,” the king had quickly added, with a sudden look of worry. “I am asking you to be my lover, but I would never pretend to demand it. If you do not return my feelings, only say so, and I will never speak of this again.”

As if Ori could ever _not_ love him, really. But he had looked so... afraid, so fragile almost, supposing kings ever got fragile... so Ori had told him very carefully, very tenderly, that there was nothing he wanted more than to be Thorin's.

“Then I shall be yours too,” the king replied, taking his hand and smiling, the way he never smiled, so sincere and happy. “My treasure.”

Ori's cheeks had turned a bright red at hearing himself called so, and before he could stop himself, he had thrown himself at Thorin to kiss him.

It had been their first kiss, and clumsy as it had been, Ori had still found it perfect.

  
  


Sex had been nice, of course, but to be honest, it hadn't been was Ori preferred. The few stolen moments of tenderness he could get from his lover, on the other hand... it never was much, a smile here, a brush of their fingers there, Ori's favourite cakes left on his desk... and when they were very lucky, they could sit together in front of the fire, the scribe in his king's arms, comfortable and warm. Sex was nice too, yes, but strangely it was easier to get than these fleeting instants of love, and Ori treasured those far more.

  
  


Until the first time he gave Thorin an order.

  
  


It hadn't been much, that first time. Thorin had been on his back with Ori riding him, and they just couldn't get the rhythm quite right. It happened sometimes, and often it just made them laugh. Not that night. Because Ori had had a terrible day, full of people being idiots, and he needed to _get off_ , and he needed it now, but since Thorin just wouldn't move the right way, so maybe he should just stop moving and let Ori take care of it.

The scribe hadn't meant to actually say that aloud, but it _had_ been a long day.

He had expected even less to have Thorin actually stop moving, but he hadn't been in a state of mind to question it. Instead, he'd taken advantage of it to start grinding his hips until everything felt good, and before long he had finished with a strangled moan. Thorin was still hard, still _far_ from done, but he hadn't _moved_ , his hands clenched tight in the bedding, and his eyes...

Ori had quickly slumped to the side and he'd finished Thorin with his hand while they kissed, but these eyes...

They didn't talk about what had happened afterwards, but for days, the king's pleading eyes haunted him.

  
  


It could have been a one time thing. Ori expected it to be, really.

But once or twice afterwards, it happened that Thorin was... surprisingly bad while they were making love. Never to the point of doing anything that hurt, of course, but whether he was taking Ori, or being taken by him, there was a certain... sloppiness about the way the king did things.

Sometimes, Ori just allowed it, because it was still nice, even like that.

Other times, though...

Ori wasn't stupid. It didn't take him long to realize that Thorin enjoyed being told to stay still, enjoyed having his young lover take control. It took him a little longer to admit that he loved it too, loved having the great king of the Longbeards submit to him like that... And Thorin was so very good at obeying, king that he was...

And it didn't mean anything, really, Ori told himself. It was just... something they did sometimes. They didn't even do it every time... though it was more likely to happen when Thorin was under a lot of pressure. It didn't _mean_ anything.

Taking it further than that, than an order to keep still... now _that_ would mean something.

  
  


One day Thorin, trying on some new vambraces, asked for Ori's help to tie them. They were in public, Balin was with them, as well as his brother Dwalin. It was no time to think about Thorin naked. It was an even worse moment to wonder what it'd be like to tie down Thorin as they made love. But when Ori had tightened one vambrace a little too much, there had been that small catch in the king's breath, and their eyes had met...

Ori had stepped away as if he had been burnt, and mumbled something about not being able to help, before running back to his desk.

No one seemed to have noticed anything thankfully, and Ori didn't look away from his work a single time while Thorin was there, but he felt the king's eyes on him the entire time.

 

They sort of avoided each other after the day Thorin had tried his new vambraces. Ori wasn't sure why his lover would do that, but he knew why _he_ did. It was one thing to enjoy making love with a king, to enjoy what little power his lover was willing to let him have, but the pictures that flooded his mind since that day were... not good. One could not want to tie a king and have him at one's mercy, even if all one wanted to do with that power was to enjoy that king's body slowly until said king could do nothing but beg for more, and...

No.

One could not want such things.

It just wasn't _done_.

It wasn’t a happy period for him, and by the look of it, Thorin didn’t enjoy the separation any more than Ori did. They had been lovers for about a year at that time, and the scribe had grown used to being with his king whenever he could. He missed the small moments of it, the conversations here and there, when Thorin came to visit Balin “just when he happened to not be there” and they could just be together… He missed their kisses and the stolen touches…

And he missed sex too, if he had to be honest. He’d had a few lovers before Thorin, but nothing that had ever felt that right, that _good_. They were starting to have things really figured out, to know which spots to avoid and which one to tease again and again….

But the idea that he might let anything about his little fantasy escape him just terrified the scribe. Being away from Thorin was painful, but the risk of losing him entirely… And Ori would lose him if he said anything, because this was different from their other game, this was something Thorin _couldn’t_ want.

  
  


It took them nearly two months to dare making love again.

It was shy and tentative, and Ori made a point of not doing anything that might look or sound like he was trying to take control. It wasn’t the best night they’d had together, and Thorin seemed terribly nervous too… but at least they were back together, and that was all Ori cared about.

“I had missed this,” the scribe yawned against his lover’s shoulder afterward.

“I had missed _you_ ,” Thorin replied sleepily. “I hope we never fall apart this way again.”

Ori immediately tensed again. The king felt it, and sighed.

“I suppose… I suppose we will have to talk about it, won’t we?”

“Talk about what?” Ori mumbled, fearing the answer.

“About… the things we do sometimes,” Thorin said awkwardly. “When you… tell me what to do. I… had thought it was something you enjoyed too, but I am… not so sure anymore. I… I believe I am right in thinking… in thinking this was the reason you have avoided me of late?”

“No!” Ori protested, sitting up quickly. “I mean… I mean a little. Not really? It’s… I just… I like a lot what… what we do, I swear! Don’t doubt that, don’t ever doubt that! It’s just…”

The young dwarf bit his bottom lip, unsure what else to say. It was a relief to know, _really know_ for sure that Thorin too enjoyed their game, but it didn’t mean the rest of it would be welcome too...But then Thorin raised his hand to caress Ori’s cheek, an encouraging smile on his lips, and the scribe decided to be as honest as he could.

“I like what we do,” he repeated. “But sometimes… sometimes I want other things, and they are not… things I should want. I… I got scared when I realized it but… I won’t let it scare me again, and I’ll… I’ll do my best to get rid of these… ideas, so don’t worry.”

Thorin sat up too, and leaned to kiss his lover.

“What sort of ideas are these?” he asked carefully. “Maybe… maybe they aren’t as bad as you think.”

“They are though,” Ori whispered guiltily. “I can’t… you’ll hate me.”

“Try anyway. Unless you dream of murdering me, I do not think I could hate you, if even then.”

Ori smiled weakly at him, and took a deep breath.

“Sometimes… Sometimes I wonder what… what it’d be like to… to tie you as we… when we’re… together.”

“Ah.”

Tensing again, the young dwarf hunched his shoulders and looked down. He should never have said that. He had spent weeks avoiding Thorin so that he might not let that shameful desire slip, and now all that time without his lover was turning out to have been for nothing. He was going to lose Thorin, and over something stupid, something he could very well live without, something he just needed to make the effort to not think about…

“What if… what if I liked the idea too?”

Ori’s gaze snapped back up, and he gaped at his lover. Thorin was blushing, and he looked about as terrified as the scribe felt, his hands clenched, his eyebrows raising uncertainly as he stared at Ori.

“But you’re a king,” Ori breathed. “I can’t…”

“I am not a king with you. I do not _wish_ to be a king with you. I can… I _can_ not be a king with you, and it is… a precious thing for me. I will… I will not ask you to do anything you are uncomfortable with, my treasure, and if my… status makes it impossible for you to indulge in… the ideas your mind provided you with, then I will accept it. But if you can be convinced that my birth has nothing to do with… with the games I wish to play in our bed, then know that I am… willing to try it.”

Ori twisted his fingers, and looked away again. The idea that Thorin could feel free of his responsibilities when they were together… it made him happier than he would ever have thought. As for the rest of it...

“I like our… games, terribly,” he whispered. “And I want… I want to try other things, I want it so very much, and if you want it too… It’s almost like a dream! Are you sure…?”

Thorin chuckled, and kissed him tenderly. “Where you are concerned, treasure, I am always sure. If… if _you_ are sure, then we can… there are, there are books about… how to do these things safely. I have not personally read such works yet, but I know where I could borrow one.”

Ori blushed so hard he was surprised his cheeks didn’t catch fire, and he nodded quickly. He rather liked the idea of a book. It might give shapes to what was only a vague desire at the moment… and he hadn’t even thought about the problem of safety, but of course they would have to consider that. Ori had seen tourniquets go wrong once or twice, and he just couldn’t risk anything of the sort with his lover. They would have to be careful… but they would be careful together, because Thorin wanted this too, whatever _this_ was.

The young dwarf laughed, and kissed his king again, feeling very foolish for how afraid he had been of admitting his desires to Thorin.

They made love once more that night, with Ori demanding that Thorin stay still, to which the king happily complied, after which they fell asleep in each other’s arms.

It was almost dawn when Ori woke up, and suddenly realized that he’d be in terrible trouble if his mother and brother figured out that he had not spent the night in his own bed. He quickly untangled himself from his lover, apologizing when Thorin mumbled, and after hastily putting his clothes back on, he escaped on the streets. Luckily, he didn’t live too far away (a blessing, really, and it made their little romance so much easier) and he managed to get home before even Dori was up.

Nori was there though.

And that was bad luck of course, because Nori was almost never home if he could help it, so having him there just on the day when Ori had made the mistake of falling asleep…

“You look well fucked, little brother,” Nori greeted him. “And very terrified, so I’m going to assume that Dori doesn’t know you weren’t home last night?”

“If you tell Dori or mama, I will tell them about that time you tried to sell our house.”

“Fair enough,” Nori laughed. “I’ll keep the secret then… but you’ll have to tell me more. I want to know my baby’s in good hands. Who is the lucky dwarf?”

“Not your business,” Ori cheerfully announced. “But he’s a very good dwarf, the very best that ever was, and we are in love.”

“And yet not courting.”

“Actually, we are. Secretly. It’s fairly sure his family will never approve of it, so…”

Nori frowned.

“Not sure I like that. Has he promised you marriage?”

“We’ve talked about it… he is sincere, Nori. He says he wants… and I think he really wants, he does, but that’s not enough, you know? And I don’t care, I’m happy like that. As long as I can be with him, I’m happy.”

His brother didn’t seem convinced, and Ori knew he would have to explain later, as much as he could without betraying his lover’s identity… But that would be later, after he had grabbed a couple more hours of sleep. Nori, thankfully, seemed to understand that, and he sent him to his bed, smirking in a way that made it clear the conversation wasn’t over.

 

It was impressive how much more relaxed Thorin seemed when Ori saw him again. He was smiling, even when Balin teased him, and when Ori passed by him, their hands brushed, the way they used to before. It made the young scribe happy, more than he would have imagined. Things were _right_ again.

That certainly was worth bearing with Nori's sly grins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another story that I won't finish because watching DoS and reading meta on tumblr changed the way I saw things /o/  
> But I think it can sort of stand on its own anyway?


	3. unrequited

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin thinks about Ori

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by this: http://allysartsuff.tumblr.com/post/76263975119/unrequited-love-and-oblivious-ori-are-my-favourite

Thorin’s eyes wandered on the members of his company, never stopping on anyone, just to make sure that everyone seemed fine. It had been a quiet day, and nothing worrying had happened, but dinner around the fire where a good time to see if tensions had arisen. It was Thorin’s duty to make sure that no one felt left behind.

The prince _tried_ to avoid looking at the spot where his nephews were sitting. But when he heard their laughter, accompanied by a softer sound that anyone else might not have heard under Fili and Kili’s voices, Thorin found himself staring.

Ori had a hand pressed against his mouth, trying not to laugh too loudly at whatever joke the boys had told him this time… and it might have been a naughty joke too, judging by the slight blush on his face, and the way the three of them were looking around to make sure no one had heard them. Thorin allowed himself to smile. Silly boys that they were… and it was pleasant to know that so far, they still managed to have fun and to act as the children they were, at least when they were resting…

Not that Thorin had any illusions on _why_ he was keeping an eye on the boys, far more than on the rest of the company. He loved his nephews dearly, and worried about them, but more than anything his attention was on young Ori.

He’d been ashamed when he had first realized it. The boy was so _young_ , younger than Kili… and he’d been sheltered, was as innocent as a dwarf his age could be… or at least, so he’d seemed at first. Thorin had hated himself when he’d realized he was attracted to a boy too young, too innocent and too pretty. Until his nephews had become closer to the boy. Ori might have seemed innocent and clueless when he was near his brothers, but it had soon become clear that it was just an act to appease Nori and Dori. The boy liked a good laugh just as much as Fili and Kili did, and they weren’t always the ones telling naughty jokes… and he could be quite as reckless as them when given the chance, as he had more than proved already. But he could also be calm, and when he was working on his writings, he didn’t hesitate to tell the princes to leave him alone… and they _listened_ , which would probably have made their mother jealous.

It had _started_ as a silly infatuation, one like any old dwarf might have felt for a young and pretty lad, but it was starting to grow into _more_ , and Thorin didn’t mind. There were worse people to fall in love with than Ori, son of Ari.

Not that he would speak of it to Ori. Not yet. Not until he was king, not until he had washed his family’s honour and defeated the dragon that had stolen their kingdom, the land of their ancestors…

But once he would be king, once thing were right again, then he would ask Ori to allow his courtship, and hope for the best.

 

Ori giggled softly, slapping Fili’s shoulder because that last joke had just been too awful… but he froze when he noticed Thorin’s eyes on them, glaring at him. The scribe bit his lip. It was probably a crime of some sort to slap a prince, even for fun.

“What’s the matter with you?” Kili asked, before looking toward his uncle. “Oh. He’s doing it again, isn’t he? Don’t mind him, he’s just a sour old thing.”

“Yeah, I think it means he likes you,” Fili added, patting the scribe's back. “I mean, he always glares at us like that, and mother says he likes us, so…”

Ori shrugged and stared at his boots, not daring to look at their leader.

“Can’t he like me a little less then?” he mumbled. “All the attention’s making me _nervous_.”

“What, you’d rather have him treat you like Bilbo?” Kili teased, looking just a _little_ too long at their supposed burglar.

“What’s the difference? He glares at us both.”

“Yeah but he doesn’t call you a fussy bunny,” Fili pointed out. “It’s all in the details, see.”

Ori snorted at that, but Kili tried to defend the hobbit’s honour. Before long, they were both teasing him about his silly little crush, and Ori forgot entirely about Thorin, even though the king was still looking at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am very very tired lately and a lot has been happening lately irl, but I swear I'll go back to my many WIPs very soon!


	4. magic accident

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin gets turned into a kitten and is so embarrassed about it, he hides in Ori's sweater and refuses to come out

Accidents happened. Magical ones, even more so. Especially when one was married to the head of Erebor’s library, liked to come visit one’s husband’s worplace, and tended to sneer at the idea of magic as practised by mere mortals to the point of reading spells aloud to prove they didn’t really work.

"You have only yourself to blame," Ori sighed, picking up the little fluffy balls that, until a few minutes earlier, had been his husband. "I told you to be careful. Books have a mind of their own you know, and they don’t like to be made fun of."

Thorin answered by a pathetic little mewl that almost sounded regretful.

"Yes, well, too late to be sorry. It’s not going to help us much. I’ll have to look for the counterspell… I’ll hand you over to Balin until I find it, and…"

The kitten mewled again, and wriggled until it escaped Ori’s hand to fall on his lap, and from there it managed to get under the librarian’s jumper.

"You’re not very reasonable," Ori sighed fondly, one hand reaching under the wool to scratch Thorin’s back, making him purr. "Fine, stay with me then. But I swear, you’ll have to make it up to me when you’re a dwarf again."


	5. declaration shoujo style

Thorin had received an anonymous message asking him to come alone under the cherry flower of Southern garden that sunset. Normally he’d have ignored such a request, being far too busy trying to restore his kingdom to its former glory, but for some reason, this message felt important. Maybe it was because the writing, although clearly disguised, still felt familiar, or because the letter had been slipped among documents that Ori had brought him…

In any case, the king decided to go. He warned Balin of where he was going of course, and took a guard with him and asked her to wait a little way from the tree, hidden from sight.

Thorin wasn’t sure was he’d expected to find under that cherry, but certainly not a nervous looking Ori, his hair and braids moving gracefully in the breeze.

"You came!" the lad exclaimed, his voice strangely high. "I wasn’t sure… I really thought you wouldn’t come! Oh, I’m so glad…"

Something on the king’s face must have shown his confusion, because the boy bit his lip and blushed.

"Right. I suppose I should tell you why… oh, you’re going to think this is ridiculous… and I promise I won’t let it impact our work relationship! But for so long now… I know you probably barely notice when I’m around, though I’ve tried my best to work well and get your attention somehow, and… What I mean is… your majesty, I love you!"

"You _what_?”

Ori’s entire face went red, and he looked as if he’d been struck in the face.

"Oh. I. I love you? Oh but don’t worry, I don’t have any expectations… it’s only, I needed to have said it at least once, so it’d be easier to let it go after… Of course I know perfectly well that someone like you would never notice someone like me… But I had to say it once, and now that’s done, and so I’ll leave you alone and go back to being in the shadows, don’t worry!"

At this, the boy bolted away, clearly trying to expect what he appeared to have taken for a rejection. But before he could get away, Thorin grabbed Ori’s wrist and pulled him in his arms.

"After a declaration such as this one, you cannot really expect me to let you go anywhere," the king said. "Indeed, there are going to be consequences for what you’ve just said to me."

"Consequences?" Ori repeated, paling.

Thorin nodded. “Great consequences,” he claimed. “The first of which being that I intend to kiss you this very moment.”

And indeed, the king did exactly that. For a few seconds Ori was stiff in his arms, until he seemed to realize what was happening. Then the boy threw his arms around Thorin’s neck, and kissed him back with enthusiasm.

"I suppose it is now my turn to tell you a secret," Thorin said when they separated. "Here is mine: you were never in the shadows, because your king had noticed you."


	6. Magic Spell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The best part of Ori's days is talking to Thorin at night

"So, how was your day?" Thorin asked with a warm smile. "Any more trouble in the library?"

"We found rats," Ori sighed, letting his head fall on the king’s lap who started petting his hair. "Rats! In the library! What’s the point of having had a dragon in here if he couldn’t even keep the pests away!"

Thorin chuckled, and bent to kiss the younger dwarf’s temple.

"I do not think Smaug would have bothered with rats, love. Eating them would be as if you tried to eat ants."

Ori only grunted and rolled his eyes, refusing to admit that his lover had a point.

"Surely, good things happened too," Thorin chuckled, kissing Ori’s cheek this time.

"Yes. Dori’s found a place for his tea shop, and he’s gotten all the permissions to open it. Balin has started putting braids in his hair again…"

"Oh, that’s good. It was about time, he hadn’t done it since Azanulbizar, you know."

"I know," Ori said. "What else… oh, Bifur as a lady friend! She’d very nice. She doesn’t talk a lot, just like him, and he seems to like her a lot. Gets along terribly well with her kid, too."

"Good, good. Any news from Bilbo?"

Ori shook his head sadly. It wasn’t exactly a lie. They hadn’t had news from Bilbo.

Only from Bofur, who had just arrived in the Shire and was staying at Bag End. But Ori couldn’t say that, because if Thorin got what he wanted, he might not come again.

"I hope he’s well," the king sighed. "He deserves to be well, no matter what harm he caused us. He meant well."

Ori nodded sadly, and sat up to cuddle his lover.

"It’s nearly time," he sighed. "The ten minutes are up."

Thorin nodded, and kissed his lover tenderly. “Will you call me again tomorrow?”

"I’m not sure. There’s a feast, and Dain asked the entire company to be there. But the day after for sure!"

"I’ll see you in two days then," Thorin replied with another kiss. "You will have to tell me how the fight against the rats is going."

Ori nodded, and opened his mouth to make a joke, but the king was already gone.

Ten minutes a day, that was all the scribe could get. Ten minutes, and all Thorin used them for was to get news of Erebor, because even now the mountain was his first worry.

Ten minutes, and Ori knew he wouldn’t even get that if Thorin ever learned that for every minute he was brought back to the word of the livings, Ori lost a day of his life.

But he’d made his choice already, and it didn’t seem like such a heavy price to pay, if it let him see Thorin’s smile again.


	7. braids

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ori braids Thorin's hair as a way to relax him while he suffers from bureaucracy

It was mostly quiet in Thorin’s office, except for the occasional “what a bunch of idiot”, “I can’t believe they want me to sign this” or “what do you mean this law didn’t exist already”. Ori listened in silence, focused on the king’s hair.

He had just finished brushing it, making sure not to pull (he could not distract Thorin while he worked, that was part of their understanding), and he was now braiding it. It had become a habit of sorts. Thorin hated taking care of paperwork, but he loved having his hair played with, and so they’d found a way to bring the two together.

Sometimes, Ori would be creative, and braid the king’s hair in fashions that could have rivaled with Dori on his best days. On other evening, when he was tired from his own day of work, he would only make simple braids, again and again, the repetitive gesture soothing to him.

Tonight, he started with some complex, delicate braids, but they had not satisfied him. So Ori had decided to be daring.

He would never have dared to make any real claim on Thorin. They had an understanding, they shared some companionship, but that was it. Ori knew he could never be a king’s consort, not even an exiled one’s. He did not mind. He liked what they had, unconventional as it was.

Still, it was… amusing, to put a courting braid in the king’s hair. And it having his hair arranged that way suited Thorin so well, made him almost painfully handsome.

It was just a game.

When Thorin would be done with his work, Ori would brush his hair again, destroy any trace he’d ever touch it.

But for now, he could look at this braid, and pretend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I write sad things today because my back hurts orz  
> and also because I can't write on what I actually want to write due to not putting it on google doc orz


	8. mischief in the library

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Thorin and Ori spend some time together in the library.

The rule they had established was clear. Ori could not, under any circumstances, disturb Thorin while he was going about his kingly duties. A rule that the young dwarf had accepted fairly easily, since it had meant that Thorin had been forced to accept to leave him alone too when he was working in the library.

Ori loved Thorin terribly, but books were  _important_  and required his  _full_ attention.

Usually.

"This is against the rule," Ori claimed when Thorin came to the library one day at lunch time, carrying a heavy basket. "Actually, it’s probably against all the rules."

"All of them, really?"

Ori nodded firmly, but still took a peek at what was in the basket.

"Oh, cold chicken, that’s nice!" he exclaimed, before frowning. "It’s still against the regulations to bring food in the library."

"I also have chips," Thorin retorted with a small smile. "They’re still hot. And I have that spicy sauce you like so much… not to mention pie."

"What sort of pie?" Ori asked before he could help himself.

"Apple and cinnamon."

The younger dwarf shuddered, staring at the basket with an intensity that almost made Thorin jealous.

"Come, my little hobbit," he chuckled, putting one arm around Ori’s shoulder to drag him toward a usually desert part of the library. "And I hope you will leave a few crumbs for me."

"I really shouldn’t!" Ori grumbled, kissing the king’s cheek and pressing against him. "Food in the library! And coming here during my work hours! That’s very naughty of you!"

"Indeed it is," Thorin replied, kissing him back. "Someone should teach me some manners."

Ori laughed, a slight blush creeping his cheeks, and stared at Thorin with the same hunger he’d had for the pie just moments before.

Sex in their respective work space was, of course, strictly against the rules.

But rules, as Thorin had discovered during his acquaintance with Ori, were always a lot more fun when you broke them.


	9. difficult conversation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin isn't very good with words.  
> At all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the prompt was for confession fluff but this happened instead.  
> Can be read as a continuation of chapter 3, or alone uwu

Ori entered Thorin’s room with a polite smile which he hoped would hide his confusion. It was not exactly usual for him to be called to the king’s appartments after dinner, and Kili, who’d passed the message to him, had seemed to imply that this was rather important, somehow.

The way Thorin glared at him as he came in worried him. He had no idea what he could have done to deserve such a looked, but it couldn’t have been good.

"You asked for me, my king?"

Thorin nodded firmly, glaring even harder. Ori waited a moment, but the king only stared at him.

"May I ask why you wanted to see me, my king?" he inquired, and Thorin’s face flushed in what he could only assume to be anger.

"I need to talk to you about something important. Maybe you should sit down. Here, have a chair."

Ori almost protested that he was perfectly fine standing up. But before he could say anything, Thorin had rushed toward him, grabbed his arm, and pushed him into the nearest armchair, looking positively furious the entire time.

"We need to talk," Thorin repeated. "I’m sure you must have some idea as to what I want to tell you."

"Not really," Ori confessed. "Wait, is it about that prank Kili and I played on lord Aren the other day? We didn’t mean for the mud to hit his face, we really didn’t."

The king’s face to turned to confusion for a brief moment, as if he had no idea what Ori was talking about, before turning once more to anger.

"That is of little consequence, though I will have a word or two with Kili. This is not what I meant to talk to you about. The subject I wanted to breach was… It cannot have escaped you… certainly, it is not preposterous of me to think that there is friendship between us?"

Friendship was not the word Ori would have used.  _Extreme confusion_  seemed a far better suited name for his relationship to Thorin, in his opinion. As far as he knew, their relation was limited to Thorin glaring at him every time they were in the same room (and for some reason, Thorin was often in the same room as him, and had become a regular at the library too, even though he had little interest in the books), and Ori ignoring him, or thinking that the king was far prettier when he smiled.

It was probably a crime of some sort to call one’s king  _pretty_ , and it certainly was a crime to want Thorin to  _smile_ , but Ori had figured that no one could know what he was thinking anyway.

"I’m honoured you would think of me as a friend, my king."

Thorin’s glaring intensified.

"You are a hero of Erebor, one of the few that dared to follow me!" the king roared, and Ori flinched. "My friendship does not honour you, Ori son of Ari! If anything, it is I who is honoured by it!"

Ori blinked confusedly.

"If you say so, my king."

"Thorin."

"I beg your pardon?"

The king’s entire face had turned an interesting shade of red. It look a little like Bilbo’s tomatoes, or maybe like cherries. Not the cherries that were almost black though, the really red ones. The colour of of Thorin’s face was, in any case, a most unusual one. On anyone else it would have seemed like a blush, and a cute one at that, but the king managed to make it look glorious and threatening.

"I wish you would call me Thorin," the older dwarf explained, his fingers clenched in the fabric. "It would bring me great pleasure to hear you call me by my name, and after… after all that we went through side by side, I’m sure… I’m sure there is little need for protocole between us."

"Will you get angry again if I say this honours me?"

"Angry? When was I angry at you? I was merely stating a point. I cannot pretend to bring you any honour, Ori. You do not need me to have honour. However…"

Once again, Ori patiently waited for more, and occupied himself with admiring the shifting colours on Thorin’s face. How the king managed to still be so pretty with a face so red was a mystery. But then, Kili and Fili too managed to be pretty under any circumstances. It must have run in the family.

"Ori, would you do me the honour and the pleasure of letting me court you!" Thorin eventually exploded, glaring at the poor boy as if his very existence were an insult.

“ _What_?”

Ori blinked a few times, trying to make sense of the situation. He could not have heard what he thought he’d just heard. Could he?

"I have great affection for you!" Thorin shouted. "I would never have thought, when we first met! But as we travelled together, as I get to know you, I became fond of you! I have realized recently that I love you! It would make me the happiest of dwarves if you would consider being courted by me!"

Ori stared at the king with wide eyes.

Oh.

Well, that certainly gave a brand new perspective on everything else.

He’d never really thought of Thorin in such a fashion before. It would have been pointless. For all that he thought that Thorin was terribly pretty, incredibly charismatic and occasionally clever, Ori had always known that it’d be stupid of him to allow himself to have even just a crush on his king.

But since said king was offering…

"It would be my pleasure, Thorin," Ori claimed with a smile, rising from his chair to take the king’s hand.

Thorin was still blushing, but a large smile appeared on his face.

Ori was glad to see he’d been right.

Thorin was much prettier when he looked happy.


	10. the company's child

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ori has a baby, and the father's identity is a secret.
> 
> (warning for canon character deaths)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was planning to go to the cinema and instead this happened and I don't even know?  
> I leave it to you to decide if Ori is FtM or if dwarven reproduction is more complex than the human one

Durin was the company's child. Ori bore her, but she was their child, and they all had a hand in raising her. At first it was out of necessity, because she was born right at the end of winter, when Erebor's provisions had been at their lowest... and because she was born without a sire, too. There was no one to claim her.

“She was claimed before her birth,” Balin would tell people. “She has a sire, her parents were married, she is a legitimate child, but at the present time we all feel there is no need to reveal her full parentage.”

People who could count the best calculated that little Durin must have been conceived around the start of Thorin Oakenshield's quest. The sire had to be one of the company, and yet none of them appeared to be married to young Ori.

Little Durin had very red hair, much like her uncle Nori, but she had blue eyes.

Prince Fili too had had blue eyes, people said.

But then, she also had that wonderful, cheerful smile.

Didn't prince Kili used to smile like this, the people who'd know him wondered?

It had to be one of them. The few select people who'd seen Ori's wedding bead were clear: it bore the crest of the royal line. And with all of them so young, still almost children, who could have blamed them for fooling at the eve of a quest they were not sure to survive?

But then, there was also another rumour. This one was not as popular. It was nobles' gossip, spread between those who had known the royal family in Ered Luin, who had seen how often Thorin would call for Ori to help in his work, the presents he would make to the young scribe, always under the pretence of thanking him for his help, but some of these gifts had been too handsome... And didn't people say back then that Thorin had contracted a secret marriage? It had been the talk of Ered Luin, once. The king had started wearing a small copper bead, cheap but beautiful, and that had looked exactly like a wedding bead...

For months, everyone wondered if Ori would stand up for his daughter and make demands for her sake. If she really was a legitimate child, if truly she was born of the royal line after a lawful marriage, then she had more claims upon the throne of Erebor than Dain did.

When at the end of the first year, no action had been taken by either party, people decided that Durin wasn't of royal blood after all. They started calling her the Company's child, and that was already more than enough for gossip.

 

Most of the time, little Durin stayed with her uncle Dori. Her father worked hard to help rebuild Erebor, and for the first few years people said he was not taking enough time to care for her. They judged him harshly for it, because she was the first child born in the kingdom reclaimed, but Ori did not care.

“I play with her and care for her when I need to,” he said. “If she is lonely, she had plenty of people to give her love and attention. Dori is a better parent than I could ever be. She loves Nori because he teaches her all sorts of naughtiness that I do not want to know about. Bifur and Bofur make for her any toy she could dream of. If she wants to play, Bombur is always ready to take her with him, and his children are great friends for her. When she gets hurt, she knows she can get Oin to look at anything, and he will never judge her, no matter how she got hurt. Gloin is teaching her to read and count, and does a wonderful job of it. Dwalin is always ready to hug and cuddle her as much as she wants, and Balin tells her better stories than I ever could. I think my child is rather well cared for, really.”

“And what do you do for her, then?” people would ask. “You're her father, don't you do anything for her?”

Ori always smiled sadly then, a smile that barely deserved that name and looked rather as if he were trying not to break into tears.

“Oh, me,” he'd say. “I tell her about her father, that's all I can do.”

That was all he would ever say. He refused to say anything else about that father, about his husband. Not even to the company, the others said. Ori was keeping his grief and his love for himself.

 

When little Durin turned thirty, king Dain demanded to talk to Ori, and for the first time since the birth of his daughter, Ori agreed to see him. It had not been an easy year for the company. Bifur's health had started declining fast, and Balin, after a visit to the Shire, started talking of reclaiming Khazad Dum, saying he would go alone if he had to, and the rest of them was working hard at convincing him to stay.

“Do you think he will really be so mad?” Dain asked Ori on the tone of conversation, as if they were old friends. As if it weren't only the second time they were talking.

But they were in the king's private apartments, where protocol mattered little, and they both knew that had things been different, they might have been kin. Maybe a little familiarity was acceptable.

“I think Balin is as stubborn a dwarf as there ever was,” Ori said. “If he wants to go, he will go. Even alone. Except we would not allow him to go alone, and so I think at least some in the company will follow him. I think Oin will.”

“I heard that you would too.”

Ori almost smile.

“I see you've stopped depending entirely on Nori for information.”

“I have not. Your brother told me himself. He hopes I can somehow force you to stay, but I know better.”

“Erebor is hateful to me. I would have left long ago, if not for Durin. She deserve to grow in her family's kingdom.”

Dain smiled, and offered the younger dwarf's wine. Unsurprisingly, Ori refused. Dain had been told that once, the scribe had been a merry enough dwarf, shy but always ready to laugh and chat with anyone who might listen. These days though, he kept what little joy he could find in himself for his daughter. He was never without a smile for her.

“If you go, Durin will...”

“My brothers will care for her, and the rest of the company, and she will stay here. I do not believe in Balin's dreams. I know what awaits us in Khazad Dum. My daughter will never go near that place.”

“I could take her in,” Dain suggested. “My son isn't much older than her, they could be playmates. We might even arrange for them to...”

“No.”

“All I am saying is...”

“No.”

“She could become a princess, a queen!”

“And if I thought she had to be one, she would be already,” Ori said calmly, coldly. “Durin will never go anywhere near that throne. It is not her fate.”

“Her father was a king!”

“Her father died for his crown,” Ori whispered. “As did his heirs. And Thrain, and Thror. Erebor's throne has killed too many people. I will not let my daughter sit upon it, and if you try to make a princess out of her in my absence, Nori will make sure to save her. She will _not_ be queen.”

“It is in her blood!” Dain exploded. “Don't you realise what it would mean for Erebor to know that the line isn't broken? This isn't about you and your desires! People want continuity!”

“They have you. You're a good king. Maybe better than Th... than the one before you. You are better than continuity. And I will not sacrifice my daughter to this kingdom. It has taken enough from me.”

Dain glared at the younger dwarf. Ori stood straight, pale and trembling, but there was iron in his eyes that could not be bent.

“If Thorin were here, she would be a princess,” Dain insisted.

“If Thorin were here, I would fear less for her,” Ori replied. “But he is not. My daughter is mine only. She doesn't know her sire's name, and never will if I can help it. She knows that he was a good dwarf, stubborn but kind, quick to anger but capable of seeing his mistakes, who played the harp and sang and laughed. This is what she knows. But she will never know his name, and she will never be a princess.”

“You are selfish, Ori.”

“Yes I am,” Ori agreed, smiling sadly. “And I feel no shame for it. Durin will never be queen, but she will have a chance to be happy the way her father never was, and nothing else matters.”

 


	11. Reincarnation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Thorin gets reincarnated, only to learn Ori’s already left for Moria

He was born in the wrong part of the mountain. Thorin had managed to be one of the very first children of Erebor, but he was born in a part of the kingdom that no one in his company ever came too. His new family was poor, but not in the way they had all been poor in Ered Luin. This was the poverty of dwarves who did not make a lot of money and had to be careful. It had nothing to do with the constant fear of starvation that had been upon them when they had arrived in the Blue Mountain.

Erebor was a prosperous place, where everyone willing to work would get work, where no one starved, where children had toys and went to school rather than to work.

Erebor had cost Thorin his life, but the sacrifice had not been in vain, because his people was now happy.

Except they no longer were his people. He was no longer king. He was only a child whose parents had named after a dead king. He was free. His life was his own again. He would be a smith, a musician, a singer, anything he would want to be.

He would be a lover.

That was why he had come back. It hadn’t been an easy task to plead with their Maker, but Mahal had bent in the end because Thorin refused to take no for an answer. He had to be given a chance to be with Ori. A real chance this time. More than stolen glances and shy flirtations and a few promises at night on the road.

"I will make you my consort," he had told Ori in Rivendell.

"I will never do anything that might hurt you, I will keep you safe," he had claimed in Laketown.

"I will love you until the end of days," he had promised moments before that dreadful battle, and this one at least hadn’t turned out to be a lie. It would take more than death to chance Thorin Oakenshield’s feelings.

But for now he was a child, and living in the wrong part of the mountain, and he had to wait. So wait he did. He learned to play games, listened to the children’s stories about his impossible quest, participated in so many retelling… it was fun. Everyone was very impressed by his capacity to imitate anyone in the company… anyone but Bilbo. Even for the sake of a game, there were things he refused to do.

"Traitors are traitors," he’d just grumble, and his friends wouldn’t insist. He was a good enough companion that his oddities were tolerated.

Years passed this way, quietly, pleasantly. Thorin started being allowed to go further away from the house. He knew he could have run away to seek Ori as soon as his legs carried him, but he had seen no point. It would only get him in trouble. It was better to be patient. Once he’d be old enough, his parents would trust him, and it would be so much easier to be with Ori.

He thought about their reunion a lot, wondering what he would say.

"Hello, I am Thorin Oakenshield, back from the dead to marry you" didn’t sound all that great, and he was too small and skinny to make it really work.

"Master Ori, there is something I must tell you. Surely you are aware that King Thorin is dead. Well, as it happens…"

"Master Ori, once in a place called Rivendell, you had a king promise you to marry you. That king is dead, but the promise lives on, and…"

"Master Ori, you’ve never seen me in your life, but I know you and I can prove…"

"Master Ori, you will never believe the story I’m about…"

"Master Ori, you…"

"Ori, it’s me."

"Ori I love you."

"Ori,  _look_  at me.”

That last one had never been in Thorin’s plan, and it was a dreadful thing to say to a long lost lover, but all else had failed.

It had taken Thorin thirty years to find his way into the palace, where Ori now lived because he was Dain’s secretary.

Had been Dain’s secretary.

Now Balin’s.

It had taken Thorin thirty years to get into the palace, and the day he arrived was the day Ori was leaving. All because Balin was dreaming of a kingdom that was no longer theirs, a dark and cruel place that had taken too many lives already.

Thorin was there in the crowd that was cheering on the departing army, and when Ori passed by him, he shouted and shouted to get his attention. He knew with the most absolute certainty that if Ori but looked at him, he would be recognised. Ori would stay in Erebor then, and they would be happy until the last of their days.

All Ori had to do was to look the right way.

So Thorin shouted and begged and cried.

But Ori never turned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was in an excellent mood yesterday, hence the angst.  
> I'm still in a pretty good mood, so I'm hoping to write more angst maybe uwu


	12. missed your calling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ori admires the way Thorin moves

There was something in the way Thorin fought and moved, a decisiveness, a grace, a  _precision_ … Ori had not seen it often among dwarves, nor among other races… but he had seen other people move like that. Years ago, when he had been younger, his family and him had travelled through a town of men just as a group of travelling entertainers were there, and Nori had taken him to their show. They had danced in a strange, beautiful way that was so unlike the dances he’d seen couple dance at weddings and holidays that it felt almost a shame the two had to share the same name.

Seeing Thorin move reminded him of this. Sometimes, when he was feeling very bold, Ori would try to imagine the other dwarf dancing the way these humans had. He could never get a clear picture of it, but it gave him a sensation of unbearable sensuality, and he was sure it would have been the most beautiful thing in the world.

“I think you missed your calling,” he sighed dreamily one day, as he watched Thorin spar with Dwalin.

Thorin heard him and laughed, then smiled at him. “What do you mean by that? Am I such a bad king that you think I would be better off as a warrior?”

Ori shook his head quickly, and started explaining that he had never meant such a thing… but then stopped. He had forgotten, for a moment, that Thorin, so graceful and precise and sensual, was a king. And it would not do to tell a king that he should have been a dancer.

Kings were funny like that sometimes, and could get offended by things that were meant as compliments.

So Ori apologized, and promised himself that he would be more careful in the future.


	13. "I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.

Ori opened his eyes, but saw only darkness above him. His limbs wouldn’t move and he was breathing hard, still frozen in the horror of his dreams. They were often bad lately, but this one had been particularly hard on him. There had been so much blood, and…

There was an arm around his stomach, Ori could feel it now, and it tightened while something warm pressed itself closer to his back.

"Thorin?" he whispered.

"Who else?" the king mumbled sleepily, pressing a clumsy kiss to the back of Ori’s neck. "Bad dream?"

Ori nodded. He didn’t like talking about those nightmares, because they were about things long gone now. He saw himself falling to his death, again and again, the ground never coming closer, or that battle for Erebor, the noise and the smells and the blood and…

"I dreamed you died," Ori confessed, the pictures in his mind so vivid he couldn’t handle them. "That dead, the battle… I dreamed you died, and Fili and Kili too, and…"

It had been a close thing anyway, he knew it, they all knew it, and Thorin would never walk again (he laughed about it sometimes, saying he’d done more than enough of walking in his life anyway, that he didn’t want to ever leave Erebor again now anyway). Ori had been so close to losing his lover, his friends, his brothers, everything.

Thorin kissed him again, on the shoulder this time.

"Shh, peace, my jewel. I am right here. I am not going anywhere. It was just a bad dream. I am _here_.”

Ori nodded, and turned to kiss his king. In the dark, and sleepy as he was, he missed his mouth, but it didn’t matter. Thorin was here against him, warm and alive, and nothing else _mattered_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *pretend very hard that Thorin living is canon*


	14. happy anniversary

Thorin looked down at the thing in the little box he was holding, and then back up at Ori. Who was blushing. Enough that his freckles seemed to disappear. A rather fetching look on him, and Ori never blushed enough in Thorin’s opinion. Which was the problem. Ori didn’t blush often, and when he did, it was for a reason.

Usually that reason involved Thorin getting fucked in unexpected places and equally unexpected positions. Hence Thorin thinking that Ori didn’t blush enough.

What was in the bow didn’t seem anything to blush over though. It just looked like a small glass scepter, a bit like the ones Dori had as decoration in his living room.

"Happy anniversary to you too," Thorin eventually said, "but what does this _do_?”

Ori cringed and, much to Thorin’s amazement, he managed to blush even more.

"It’s a… it’s for…"  Ori tried to explain, his hands making complicated gestures that only served to further confuse Thorin. "It’s… surely you _must_ know?”

"I have no idea," Thorin replied in all honesty. "Is it for decoration?"

A nervous giggle escaped Ori’s lips.

"It is in a way," he said. "It’s certainly going to make for a very pretty sight. But it’s actually… oh, give it here, I’ll just show you!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the present is, of course, one of those beautiful glass dildos you might have seen pictures of. If not, try googling them. They really look very pretty, and you could mistake them for decorative objects.  
> Dori knows exactly what they are, and very much enjoys the look on people's face when they realise what he's using to decorate his house


End file.
